


Time Strangers

by PhoenixTalon



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform, Swanfire - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixTalon/pseuds/PhoenixTalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A reimagining of the season 3 finale. Less Hook, more Neal. This is a Swanfire story. This is for the fans who strongly disliked the season finale. Don't like it, don't read it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You okay?” 

Emma Swan snapped out of her reverie. Neal was looking at her cautiously, his eyes flicking between her and her new baby brother. She cleared her throat. 

“Yup,” She said firmly, pushing aside the painful memories of her foster home.

“You sure?” Neal repeated, crossing his arms. “Because…you know.” He nodded towards the baby. Emma sighed. There had been so much guilt from her parents—guilt that they were having a new baby, guilt for feeling joy and excitement, so much guilt they treated Emma delicately, as if afraid she would explode. And honestly, the whole experience made Emma the slightest bit grateful that she had missed the majority of the pregnancy. Seeing David and Mary Margaret holding their tiny little newborn brought up painful memories, memories of her finally finding an adoptive family—until her adopted parents got pregnant and sent her back to foster care again. 

Of course, she couldn’t tell her parents that—why ruin such a happy occasion? But Neal knew, which was probably why he was eyeing her so carefully during the proceedings and kept asking if she was okay every five minutes.

She glanced down at her son, who was currently reading from the storybook to his uncle. “This story again?”

“My son should know where he comes from,” David defended as Henry shrugged in response. 

“And you want the first thing he knows is that his parents fell in love during an armed robbery?” Emma asked ironically.

“I wasn’t armed!” Mary Margaret protested.

“Except with a rock,” Ruby snorted.

“I still have the scar,” David remarked.

“Which healed,” Mary Margaret retorted. “That’s just how we met. That’s not how we fell in love.”

“Besides, didn’t you meet Dad while you were stealing a car that he stole first?” Henry cocked his head towards Emma.

Emma rounded on Neal. “You told him that?” She said in outrage.

“Uh…my son should know where he comes from?” Neal asked feebly and Emma resisted the urge to throttle him. 

“What, should I have said I was a fireman and that we met over pie?” Neal ruffled Henry’s hair affectionately. 

“Well, you do have a weird obsession with pumpkin pie,” Emma grumbled turning back to her parents, who were currently reminiscing about the Troll Bridge to the ears of the very attentive Storybrooke.

“You were previously betrothed, mate?” Hook asked David interestedly.

“To Kathryn,” Ruby answered, gesturing towards the former princess, who was chatting animatedly with Granny. “Though, she was Princess Abigail back then.”

“King Midas’ daughter? The man who can turn anything to gold?” Hook raised an eyebrow. “Why would you leave that opportunity?” 

Emma rolled her eyes and Mary Margaret voiced her offense. 

"What can I say?” David smiled at his wife. “My heart was destined for another.” 

“You just had to find her first,” Ruby snickered. “She ran away and was living on a farm.”

Mary Margaret sighed with longing. “Oh, that sounded like such a peaceful life back then. Leave everyone and everything behind…”

"Like mother, like daughter,” Hook said snidely. 

Both Neal and Emma shot him an angry look. Henry caught it immediately. 

“What’s he talking about?” He wanted to know. Neal and Emma exchanged glances and David attempted to change the subject. 

“Uh…should we read more stories?” He rifled the pages of the book, landing on an illustration of Baelfire. 

"Actually, I’d like to know what the pirate is talking about,” Regina announced, pushing her way through. Emma cleared her throat awkwardly.

“It’s nothing,” She looked at Neal for help. 

"We can talk about it later,” Neal intervened. “Let’s just enjoy the party, okay?”

“No,” Regina said icily. “We’ll talk about it now. Are you planning on taking Henry back to New York?”

Henry’s eyes widened. “Why would we leave?! This is our home!”

“Henry, Neal’s right,” Emma said firmly. “This isn’t the time or place.”

“I think it is,” Regina said loudly and Emma stood abruptly.

“No,” She said in a low voice. “It’s not.” She strode out of the diner, refusing to look at Henry’s alarmed expression. 

****

“I’ll talk to her,” Hook volunteered, making to go after her. Neal stepped in front of him.

“No, you won’t,” He said coldly. “This is between Emma and me.” He noticed Regina out of the corner of his eye, step forward threateningly, about to interject until Robin placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She fell back, looking suddenly vulnerable and Robin gave her a comforting hug. 

“Look, mate,” Hook crossed his arms. “I know you have a grand fantasy of running off to New York with her, so you can play house, but you know the truth, Baelfire. You know she shouldn’t leave. This is her home. Storybrooke needs her, the people need her. She belongs here.”

Neal exhaled sharply. “This isn’t about what I want,” He told Hook firmly. “This isn’t even about what Emma wants. This is about what’s best for Henry. If you—if any of you can honestly tell me that Henry’s safer here, that nothing else bad is going to happen to us…” He looked at all of them challengingly. Regina took a deep breath that sounded a little shuddery, but she did not argue. 

“I’ll be right back,” Neal ruffled Henry’s hair. 

“Dad,” Henry said quietly, pushing the storybook into his father’s hands. “Take this. It might help her remember where she belongs.”

****

Emma stared off into space, idly watching the ripples on the pond. Try as she could, she couldn’t seem to escape that expression of betrayal on Regina’s face, the look of hurt on Henry’s. After Zelena’s defeat, everyone had assumed she’d stay—after all, with their returned memories and the witch safely locked away, what was to stop them? 

We had a good life, Emma thought to herself, kicking a rock. A good life in New York. No running from ogres, no horrible curses, no magic…and Henry was happy. I was happy. …wasn’t I?

“Hey.” 

She glanced up to find Neal taking a seat next to her, calmly handing her a cup of hot chocolate. She sighed impatiently.

“You here to tell me off?” She said challengingly. “Tell me I’m making a big mistake?”

"Not my call to make,” Neal took a sip of his own drink, presumably coffee. Emma noticed the storybook on his lap and her eyes narrowed.

“We talked about this, Neal,” She ignored the smell of hot chocolate, however tempting it was. “We agreed Henry was safer in New York.”

Neal sighed. “Look, you’re preaching to the choir, Emma,” He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I’ve spent most of my life running from—well, this.” He gestured to the town, adding in a sardonic flourish ala Rumplestiltskin.

“Thing is, no matter where I ran…this stuff follows. No matter how much we want to hide from our past, stay where it’s safe…it’ll follow you. I learned that the moment a crazy lady tackled me in New York and I looked up and saw you again, after all those years. I learned that the moment I found out you were the daughter of Prince Charming and Snow White, that I’d fallen in love with the product of True Love, the savior—and the moment I found out I had a kid.” He took a musing sip of his drink and Emma glared at him. 

“Henry’s not safe here,” She said firmly.

“I know that,” Neal sighed.

“Do you know how it felt telling the kid his dad died?” She wanted to know and Neal winced. “I never, ever want him to have to go through that again. He was…he was so lost without you. He’d just gotten you in his life again, and…maybe he thought…we could have a second chance.” She stared down at her lap, perfectly aware that her words were infuriatingly vague. 

"Emma…” Neal lifted his arm awkwardly, perhaps intending on wrapping it around her shoulders, before thinking better of it. “Emma, I’d want nothing more in the world to go with you two to New York. To start over. But maybe it’s time we face up to who we are. Maybe we should just—stop running, already. Our family…our family’s here.”

“Neal, do you know what I see when I look at this?” She picked up the storybook. “I see fairy tales. Stories, stories that I have no connection to. I was never a part of any of this.”

Neal cracked a smile. “A lifetime ago, I was just a simple spinner’s son,” He flipped the book open to the illustration of Baelfire, looking forlorn. “When my father became the Dark One, I thought, why us? Why me? We were nothing special, just ordinary peasants—what did we do to deserve that curse? And you know, after all, when I finally got here—it was real nice, pretending to be a normal guy, living in New York, being engaged to a normal woman…you see how well that worked out.”

Emma was quiet for a moment. “Do you remember what you once told me?” She asked softly. “About home? On the carousel?”

Neal broke into a smile. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course I do,” Emma scoffed. “You told me that home is the place that when you leave, you just miss it. And honestly—I don’t know if I’ve ever felt that. Except when—” She looked away from him.

The words were unspoken—Tallahassee. They’d never quite made it, but during their time together…hadn’t that been home?

He took her hand, squeezing it gently. She swallowed, avoiding his gaze until something in the distance caught her eye. 

“What the hell is that?!”

A swirling vortex of green rose above the town and Neal stared dumbfounded. “What the—”

“I’m going to check that out!” Emma shouted. Neal scrambled to pick up the storybook and went chasing after her. 

****

The barn looked fair ready to collapse as green light shot into the sky. Neal stared at it grimly as Emma shut her phone. 

“It’s Zelena’s time portal,” She reported. “David left a message. Somehow, she died and triggered it.”

“Fantastic,” Neal muttered. “Another damn portal. C’mon—let’s get out of here and find my old man. He ought to be able to shut it down.”

“There’s no time for that!” Emma argued. “We need to figure out a way to close it now! Before the whole town’s sucked in!”

“We need magic for this,” Neal looked as though he swallowed a lemon as he uttered the words. “You don’t have your magic back!”

“We have to try! It’ll destroy the whole town if we just stand here!” Emma broke away from him, pulling down the barn doors. There in the middle of stables, was a swirling green portal, sucking in everything in its past. Emma had a brief moment of discomfort, remembering her last experience with Neal and a portal—before she was yanked forward.

“Emma!” Neal shouted grabbing her hand. He tried to pull her upright the portal pulled him off-balance as well. With nothing gripping the ground, they both slid towards the center. 

“Let me go!” Emma cried. “Let me go, get Gold! Get him to stop this, before—”

“No!” Neal yelled. “Not again!” He used all of his strength to try and heave her out of the portal, to no avail. They both slid headfirst into Zelena’s portal.

****

“Oh, no.”

Emma awoke to a headache and Neal’s pained exclamation. They were surrounded by trees, birds making a cacophony of sounds, and Neal looked both thunderstruck and irritated. 

“The Enchanted Forest?” She asked grimly and Neal nodded in response.

“Yeah, but when?” Neal wondered, taking a few steps forward. He stopped short, pulling something off a tree. Emma sucked in her breath.

Neal was holding a wanted sign—a wanted sign for ‘the bandit Snow White’.

“Really?” Emma groaned towards the fates and Neal shrugged.

“Could be worse, all things considering. Trust me, the Ogre Wars were not a fun era,” Neal picked up the storybook and flipped through it idly. “Henry was reading the story of how your parents met—think that directed the portal?”

“Is that how time portals work?” Emma wrinkled in confusion. “You’re the son of Rumplestiltskin, you tell me.”

Neal snorted. “You’re the one with magic, you tell me.”

“You fell through one!” Emma said triumphantly.

“So did you!” Neal returned and Emma threw up her hands in frustration.

“All right, all right!” She took the storybook form his hands. “Maybe the portal goes to wherever you were thinking—the bandit story about Snow was on both of our minds, right? Because Henry had been reading that story to the baby. So maybe we have to think of home to get home.”

“Reasonable,” Neal said cautiously. “Only thing is, we need a portal to get back and we’ve no idea where or when one will show up.”

Emma groaned. “I should have left Storybrooke the instant we defeated Zelena. This is exactly the kind of thing that does not happen in New York!” 

“Emma, relax,” Neal examined the wanted poster with a scientific bit of interest. “We’ll figure out a way to get back. Both you and me have gotten out of this land before—we just gotta stay positive.” 

“What do I look like, Marty McFly?” Emma demanded. “How the heck are we supposed to travel through time? I’m sorry, but I left the DeLorean in Storybrooke.” 

Neal coughed, covering up his snicker. A shadow fell across his face and he suddenly looked very grim. Emma caught the look and immediately realized why his mood had darkened.

“We’re going to have to find Rumplestiltskin, aren’t we,” She said deadpan. Neal turned away from her, staring pointedly into the forest. For all of the issues Mr. Gold and Neal had worked through, there was still a great deal unsaid. Somehow, forcing Neal to confront the Dark One, the version of his father that had abandoned him, the sorcerer he’d been running from his entire life—didn’t seem to be the best of ideas.

“Maybe we should find someone else,” Emma suggested weakly. “What about the Blue Fairy? She was the one who sent you to our world originally.”

Neal twisted his mouth. “No…I think you’re right. I think we have to see my old man, right in his prime. Zelena was trained by Rumplestiltskin, he’d be the best person to figure out this time travel nightmare. We just—have to be careful.”

Emma blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it,” He said anxiously. “The entire reason the curse was created was to find me. What do you think Rumplestiltskin would do if he knew that I was his son? We can’t mess with the timeline. You’ve seen the movie—you mess with one thing, the entire future’s changed.”

“To be fair,” Emma pointed out. “At the end of the movie, that stuff was changed for the better.”

“Nevertheless,” Neal’s expression was grave. “We can’t risk it. We can’t risk anything that might stop you from being born, or us meeting, or Henry—we just have to find Rumplestiltskin and get the hell out of here.”

They were interrupted by the sound of horses approaching. Neal grabbed Emma and pulled her into the bushes, hiding her from view. Black knights paused and Emma inhaled sharply, seeing a woman emerge from the carriage.

Regina.


	2. Chapter 2

“We have to help that woman,” Emma said firmly, rearing forward. Neal’s brow furrowed as he stopped her, grabbing her arm.

“What?” She demanded. “Are we supposed to let her rot or die?” 

“Belle warned us about Zelena’s spell. About how dangerous it was to mess with past events,” Neal’s fists curled. “I know it’s frustrating, but we can’t risk changing something that could damage our futures. And right now, there are more of those soldiers than there are of us—we don’t stand a chance. If one of us gets captured or killed, we’ll screw over the timeline. Especially you—you’re the Savior, remember?” 

Emma looked back at the terrified woman. More than anything else, she wanted to tell Neal to shove it, race out into the fray, and rescue her. But this was Neal’s home turf, not hers. She gritted her teeth.

“We need to find Rumple,” She said finally. “And get out of here.”

“Right,” Neal nodded. “But first—not that I don’t love the red leather jackets, but you and me stick out a little bit. We need to blend in.” Casting one more reluctant glance towards the disappearing soldiers and the imprisoned woman, Neal led her further into the woods. Fairytale land seemed more whole than her previous trip here—more trees, more birds singing, less like an archaic wasteland. It was unfamiliar. Luckily, Neal seemed to know where he was going, or at least looked more comfortable with the territory.

They came upon an old farmhouse that Neal said appeared to belong to a woodcutter. The residents didn’t seem to be at home, so Neal swiftly stole several articles of clothing off their clothes lines, giving Emma a fleeting memory of nicking the same types of materials when they were together. 

She changed behind a tree, into a peasant sort of dress with burgundy and cream colors. She tripped over the skirts a bit much, wished there had been a pair of breeches in her size, and noted critically that the top portion revealed far too much breast. The woman who owned it clearly had a longer torso than she did, but it would have to do for now. 

“Neal, you ready?” Emma called out, stepping forward, adjusting herself. She blinked in surprise as Neal came out from around some bushes, sheathing a sword. 

“Found this in the house, above the mantle,” He remarked placidly. “Looks a little rusted—wish I had my old sword, but I guess this thing’ll work.” He glanced at her. “What?”

Emma had been staring. She’d never seen Neal in—that kind of clothing, breeches, jerkin, a long cape. He looked like a huntsman or a disguised prince in a fairy story. It made her mouth go dry. When she first found out that Neal was Baelfire, the son of Rumplestiltskin, she couldn’t imagine her first love from that place—he was just too…modern. But seeing him in those clothes…she could well believe that this was his home. 

Neal rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “I used to wear this kinda thing all the time,” He said, a little defensively. “I know it looks weird, but—”

“It doesn’t,” Emma interrupted without thinking. “It looks—good. Really good.” He blinked at her in surprise and she turned away quickly, before she could flush or say something stupid again. 

“You look good too,” Neal replied mildly. “Love the corset.”

“Ugh. It’s stabbing me in the spleen,” Emma complained. “I can’t believe women actually had to wear these.”

“To be fair, from what I’ve heard, your mom was pretty good at shirking tradition,” Neal commented, respectfully looking away as she attempted to pull her dress up her chest. “Anyway, hopefully it won’t be for too long. We find my old man, figure out how to open the time portal, and it’s back to Storybrooke and comfortable jeans again.” 

Emma stilled. “I hear horses,” She said nervously, pulling up the hood of her cloak. She pulled him into the bushes, behind a tree, as another carriage careened down the road. The soldiers surrounding halted their horses and Emma licked her lips.

“Regina again?” She mumbled nervously.

“Different carriage,” Neal whispered back. 

The carriage door opened and Emma started when David Nolan stepped out. Her heart pounded as he strode forward, examining a tree in the middle of the road.

“Worry not!” He called over his shoulder. “It’s but a fallen tree.”

Emma gasped. “That’s—”

“Charming,” Neal muttered. “Your dad. We should go.” 

He pulled her slightly to get her moving, but Emma couldn’t resist. She knew what this was—this was the moment. This was the moment her parents met for the first time. Emma looked upwards and to her delight, there was Snow, standing in a tree, readying herself to pounce stealthily onto Charming’s carriage. 

“Emma,” Neal hissed. She nodded impatiently at him, suddenly desperate to see this play through—but in her haste, she leaned back, and a branch snapped from underneath her.

The noise startled Snow, who put too much weight on a dead limb. The tree branch cracked under her feet and Emma’s mother tumbled to the ground. Panicked, Emma whipped her head back towards Charming.

“Look at these markings,” Charming said with concern. “This tree didn’t fall. It’s been cut. It’s an ambush!”

“We need to get this log moved—now!” One of the soldiers ordered. 

Emma desperately turned towards Snow. Come on, come on—attack the carriage! Steal the ring! But Snow had retreated into the forest, her plan gone awry. Emma watched her disappear into the greenery, her stomach twisting. 

“What’s wrong?” Neal asked sharply.

“That bandit was Snow White,” Emma gulped. “This was the moment my parents first met.”

“Oh, crap.” 

****

“Look, we just gotta keep calm,” Neal ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. 

“Keep calm?!” Emma thundered. “My parents—their sweet, adorable, fated true love meeting was interrupted—and now I’m never going to be born!”

“We can’t panic, okay?” Neal placed his hands on her shoulders. “We just gotta keep calm and we’ll get this figured out.”

“You can say that, your possible existence isn’t at stake!” Emma retorted.

“Well, my parents met via arranged marriage. The only thing that would’ve stopped that meeting is if one of my grandparents were a goat short on the dowry,” Neal said practically and Emma glared at him for daring to try and make her laugh. 

“Hilarious,” She snapped. “You’re a real comedian.”

“Look,” Neal sighed as they entered a clearing. “See that castle? That’s the Dark One’s castle—we just find him, figure out a way to fix all this—and everything gets back to normal. If there’s one thing that man knows, it’s how to utilize a loophole.”

Emma gazed at the distant castle, twisting her lips at the dark walls and gloomy exterior. “A little more imposing than a pawnshop,” She folded her hands across her chest and Neal nodded in agreement.

“So what do we do now?” Emma turned towards Neal. “Knock on the door? Say, ‘hey, we’re from the future?’”

Neal shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe you better go,” He said after a long moment. “It’s probably best I don’t see the Dark One…you know how it is with me and him…we don’t want to screw this up even more.”

“Funny you should mention that,” A cackling voice interrupted. “Seeing as I’m fairly sure we’ve never met.” 

Emma’s mouth fell open. Out of nowhere, a small, leather clad creature had appeared before her, green, gold, and glittering. He was a man—sort of—that seemed to be dripping in magic and mischief, looking like a strange cross between an imp in a fairy tale book and David Bowie. His eyes were particularly disconcerting with their lizard-like appearance and Emma tried to process the vision before her. He giggled shrilly and Emma nearly fell over in her shock—this couldn’t be the debonair, quiet, and subtle Mr. Gold!

But it certainly could be Rumplestiltskin. 

Neal had gone silent, looking at the Dark One with a mixture of sadness and hatred. It was in that instant, Emma realized that it was this version of Gold, this strange caricature of a man, that had dropped Neal in a swirling vortex, that let him grow up alone in a world without magic. Neal had forgiven Mr. Gold for this—had he forgiven Rumplestiltskin? 

“Well, well, well,” Rumplestiltskin pranced around the two of them, examining them with scientific interest. “I have to wonder if I should turn you both into snails for trespassing—but I won’t deny I am curious about who you are and what you want. Not many approach the Dark One’s castle without a little bit of desperation in their souls.” He added a flourish to the end of his sentence and Neal’s lip curled. 

“Well, we are desperate,” Emma took a deep breath. “And we need your help.”

“Of course you do,” Rumplestiltskin sniggered. “But the question is—why should I care? What’s in it for me?” 

Emma glanced at Neal frantically who shook his head in response. But she couldn’t see another way—there was no gold, no magical items, nothing that would tempt or sway Rumplestiltskin to assist them.

Except one thing.

“Your son,” Emma exhaled. “If you don’t help us, you’ll never see your son again.” 

Rumplestiltskin froze. His eyes narrowed and his demeanor became much more threatening. He stepped towards her menacingly.

“What do you know of my son?” He demanded.

“His name is Baelfire,” Emma avoided looking Neal in the eyes but she could sense the anger and displeasure rolling off him like waves. “You’re planning to enact a curse in the hopes of reuniting with him.” 

Rumplestiltskin stepped nearer. “Who told you that?” He wanted to know. “What are you—some kind of witch?”

“No, I’m not a witch,” Emma said impatiently. “I’m the one who breaks the curse so you can find him. I’m the product of true love.”

His eyes widened. “But that’s speculation. Part of my plans—but I haven’t done it—”

“You will, and you will succeed,” Emma said firmly. 

“If that’s true, then that means…” Rumplestiltskin started to say.

“Yes,” Neal finally broke in. “We’re from the future. Glad you caught on.” He shot Emma a dirty look. She pressed her lips together—she hadn’t exactly seen Neal coming up with any stellar ideas!

“So you need my help,” Rumplestiltskin said thoughtfully. “This day just keeps getting more and more interesting. You need my help? Then answer me one question.”

“What?” Emma said uncomfortably.

“Do I find my son?”

Neal pointedly looked away. Emma cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Y-yes,” She said hesitantly. 

“Bae?” Rumplestiltskin asked eagerly. “I find Bae? How?”

“Well—” Emma started.

“Wait! Don’t tell me!” Rumplestiltskin threw up his hands like a child being denied a birthday present. “If I succeeded, I don’t want anything in my head that might throw it off.” 

Emma coughed. “It might already kind of be thrown off.”

Rumplestiltskin narrowed his eyes. “You’ve changed things! What have you done?!”

****

Emma had never set foot in the Dark Castle, but she wasn’t particularly surprised when it appeared to be a larger version of Mr. Gold’s pawnshop. There were artifacts and curious items stashed everywhere, but rather than tripping all over them, they were easily spaced out. She expected more cobwebs and dust, seeing as that fit the idea of a spooky evil castle, but it seemed rather clean to her. 

Neal had apparently forgiven her for spilling the beans, but the warning in his eyes told her not to say another word about Baelfire. She had to agree with him—who knows what this strange imp man would do if he found out that the man before him was his very own son. 

“Thank you, Mr. G—Rumplestiltskin, for believing us,” Emma said to the sorcerer as they strode down his long hall. “I know that time travel is hard to swallow.”

“Hm,” Rumplestiltskin snorted. “Hard to swallow, yes, but I suppose not inconceivable, if the creator of the spell was very desperate and very stupid.”

“Well, that about sums it up,” Neal remarked dryly and Rumplestiltskin cast a speculative glance towards him.

“I know she is the Savior,” He remarked with another high-pitched giggle. “But who exactly are you?” 

Neal stiffened. “Just a peasant you once screwed over,” He said coldly. 

“Mm, that could be any number of people,” Rumplestiltskin sniggered to himself and Emma let out an exhalation of relief that he was not pursuing the subject. 

“Oh, Rumplestiltskin, you’re back—” A pleasant voice greeted behind them and Emma couldn’t resist a grin at the expression that fell over Neal’s face.

Belle was standing before them, wearing a simple blue dress, her lovely brown curls tied with a ribbon. She looked at them curiously and Emma couldn’t help a laugh at the expression on Neal’s face, which read purely, How did she fall for him?! 

“Belle,” Neal said thunderstruck.

Belle cocked her head. “Do we know each other?”

“No, you don’t,” Emma quickly stepped in. “Mr.—Rumple—the Dark One told us about you.” 

A smile crept on Belle’s face. “Did he?”

The Dark One went from powerful sorcerer to outraged middle schooler in literal seconds, shooting Emma an irritated expression.

“No!” Rumplestiltskin interjected hastily. “Go away and read a book or whatever it is you like to do. Come back and clean later.”

“You could ask nicely,” Belle pointed out.

“I could also turn you into a toad!” Rumplestiltskin retorted, but somehow the comment fell flat—it felt more like he was being impressive for Neal and Emma’s sake, than if he actually meant it. 

Clearly Belle agreed, as she shot him a dry look that indicated he would do no such thing, before calmly trotting off. Despite Neal’s dour outlook on the whole affair, even he couldn’t resist a smile towards Emma, which made her feel rather triumphant. Now at least he understood her desire to see Charming and Snow meet for the first time. 

Emma shook her head. “It’s a miracle you two fell for each other,” She muttered, intending on being quiet, but apparently Rumplestiltskin had the ears of a rabbit. 

“What?!” He fairly yelped. “First you tell me you’ve wrecked the timestream, now you’re telling me I fall for the help?”

Neal shot a dirty look towards Emma that said shut up, please, are you trying to screw up more fairytale romances? “Anyway,” He cleared his throat. “About her parents—we need to get them back together.” 

“And who are they?” Rumplestiltskin arched an eyebrow. 

“Snow White and Prince Charming,” Emma replied.

“Prince Charming?” Rumplestiltskin snorted.

“His real name is Prince James—well, David technically, but—”

“King George’s son? Whose wedding I’ve just arranged?” Rumplestiltskin folded his arms and glared at her.

“That’s what we’re telling you,” Emma said impatiently. “That marriage isn’t supposed to happen because the ring he was going to give her gets stolen by Snow.”

“It’s quite the tale you’re spinning,” Rumplestiltskin said frankly. Emma noticed he’d begun to cast strange glances at Neal. She gulped nervously.

“Here, let me show you,” She said, anxious to keep Neal out of the sorcerer’s brain. “It’s in the book.” She cleared her throat, ready to start reading aloud—but to her unpleasant surprise, the pages were blank.

“What the—Neal!” Emma said in a panic and Neal flipped through it. 

“It’s all gone,” He exhaled slowly. “Anything that was supposed to happen after they’ve met has disappeared…”

“The ripple effect,” Rumplestiltskin fingered the edges of the pages with his lithe fingers and Neal jerked away from the book. “Once you change something in the past, anything from that point forward becomes uncertain. The future, as you can see…is a blank page.”

“We need to get Snow to steal that ring so we can put their story back on track again!” Emma said urgently. 

Rumplestiltskin smiled slyly. “You’re in luck. There’s a ball tonight at King Midas’ castle. Prince James will be there—and so will his ring.” 

“Okay,” Neal said, taking charge. “So we’ll get your mom there—”

“We don’t even know where she is!” Emma interjected.

“Allow me,” Rumplestiltskin made a complicated little gesture towards a foggy crystal on the table. 

Emma leaned in with a gasp. “There she is! Who is she with?” Snow appeared to be talking with an old sailor, who was shaking his head in apparent annoyance.

Neal sucked in his breath. “That’s Blackbeard,” He reported. “She’s trying to buy passage on his ship—doesn’t look like he’s going for it, not without that ring…”

Rumplestiltskin glanced at Neal critically. “You’re familiar with him?” He asked suspiciously. “I suppose you traverse in pirate circles, hm?”   
Neal ignored him. Emma nudged Neal’s elbow.

“Can you help us?” She asked Rumplestiltskin anxiously, when Neal did not respond. 

“Help you?” Rumplestiltskin scoffed. “I can work on getting your portal to the future open again, but getting your parents together? You made that mess, dearie. Only you know what you did. Now go undo it.” 

“Fine,” Neal said tightly. “Can we at least get some supplies here? A better sword, maybe?” 

Rumplestiltskin waved them away. “Belle will show you to my storage rooms,” He snapped his fingers and in a puff of smoke, the aforementioned maid appeared, coughing slightly. 

She narrowed her bright blue eyes at him. “I told you not to do that. Calling me gets me here just as quickly.” 

Belle turned to them both. “Follow me. We’ll get you sorted.”

****

“It’s a bit of a mess here,” Belle said apologetically. “I haven’t cleaned out all of the spare bedrooms, and every time I try, Rumplestiltskin makes a new mess.” The room she led them into was decked with armory, swords, daggers, crossbows, everything they could possibly need. Neal picked up a curved sword, much like the blade he used in Neverland, and glanced at it approvingly. 

“I don’t suppose you have any nine millimeters?” Emma queried dryly, but Belle only quirked her head in confusion. Neal smiled a little as Emma crossed the room, examining different types of daggers. 

“Are you going into battle?” Belle asked curiously as Neal gently fingered the blade. It was still very sharp. 

“Maybe,” He admitted to her. “Hopefully not.” He opened up a chest and started digging through it, trying to find a sheath with a shoulder strap—and stopped short. 

This was a trunk of his old clothes. 

His heart lurched. He gently lifted up an old pale blue tunic—he used to wear that on bright autumn days, when it was cool but clear enough for a romp in the forest. Digging further, he found a small tan shawl, rough around the edges, but still soft. His mother had made that for him, ages ago—he barely remembered her face, but he remembered sinking his face into its softness. 

“Those aren’t weapons,” Belle said firmly. “You shouldn’t go through those—I think they’re private.” 

Neal glanced at her. “Yeah, sorry,” He put them away, shutting the chest with a decisive snap, locking away any good memories or nostalgia he had of that time. 

“Are you all right?” She asked cautiously. “Have you…met Rumplestiltskin before?” 

“You could say that,” Neal muttered, kicking the chest away. He picked up a crossbow, but to his disappointment, it appeared to be broken. 

“Me and him—we made a deal. And he…” Neal sighed, remembering the common adage of their land, ‘no one breaks a deal with Rumplestiltskin’. “Well, I should’ve known better. Power is more important to him than anything else.”

“I…I don’t think that’s true,” Belle replied hesitantly. “I mean—I once thought the same thing. But nowadays, maybe…maybe there’s more to it. I’ve often wondered about those clothes—they’re for a child, you know. At first I thought it was someone he’d killed but…sometimes I wonder if they were for his child.”

Neal averted his gaze. “You should ask him,” His voice cracked a little at the words. 

Belle considered. “Maybe I will.”


	3. Chapter 3

“It is so weird seeing Belle and Mr. Gold like this,” Emma remarked dryly as they reviewed their inventory together. The aforementioned couple were noticeably absent, but Neal was uneasy. 

“Yeah,” He agreed a little brusquely. “Kinda mystified how Belle fell for the old man—especially looking and acting like that.” He thrust a few knives roughly into the bag and Emma watched him carefully.

“You’re kinda on edge,” She noted. “Everything okay?” 

“I just don’t like being here,” Neal told her, slinging the bag across his shoulder. “Doesn’t exactly bring back happy memories.” 

Emma twisted her lips. “I thought you and Mr. Gold…sort of worked things out.”

Neal raised and lowered one shoulder. “I don’t know. He…asked me to come to his wedding. He and Belle are getting married later in the evening…guess I’ll miss it after all.” 

Emma pursed her lips. “Now you’re being negative. Weren’t you telling me just a little while ago that everything was going to be fine and we were going to get out of here, no problem?”

Neal shrugged. “I don’t think I was gonna go to that wedding anyway. What’s the point?”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “What’s the point? It’s your Dad’s wedding. I’m sure he wants you there.” 

“Well, I don’t know if I want to be there,” Neal said peevishly. “Just because we’ve gotten past all the crap he put me through, doesn’t mean I’m ready to play happy families, okay? Just drop it, Emma.” He stormed past her and out of the room, nearly running headlong into Belle. 

Belle had an odd look on her face and he wondered how much she heard. “Rumplestiltskin was asking for you,” She cleared her throat. “Have you come up with a plan?”

“Sort of,” Emma joined them, casting a reproachful glance towards Neal. She heaved a sigh that seemed to indicate that their conversation was far from over. “All right,” She cleared her throat. “So what exactly is the plan?”

“The plan is to do what we do best,” Neal announced, striding down the hallway. “Get that ring from Charming, get it to your mom, get Charming to come after us, and hello happy ending.” 

“All right,” Emma said slowly. “A heist. Least that’s in my comfort zone—more or less, anyway. Where are we going to find David?” 

“Well…” Neal stopped at a stray mirror. He pulled the curtain off and it revealed Midas’ castle, illuminated with light. They could see carriage after carriage, the prime of nobility, ready to celebrate the union between Princess Abigail and Charming. 

Emma’s lips twisted. “We’re gonna sneak into a heavily guarded castle? Great. Should be a cinch.” 

“Just your average cocktail party,” Neal grinned at her. “Remember the museum gala we broke into in Seattle? Just like that—only with a fairytale twist.”

“We nearly got busted in Seattle,” Emma pointed out dryly. “That’s why we said we’d never do another con in high society again. Too dangerous, too much security.”

“What’s life without a little risk, huh?” Neal shrugged carelessly and Belle quickly covered the mirror once more. “Besides, we’re not kids anymore, Emma. We’ll be able to pull this off better.” 

Emma sighed. “All right. But sneaking in will be a neat trick. Those clothes you snuck from that peasant cabin aren’t exactly black tie. We’ll have to come in through the window—maybe the servant’s entrance?” 

“I believe I can help with that,” A sing-song voice remarked cheerily. 

Emma and Neal turned to find Rumplestiltskin behind them, smiling slyly. “I don’t like leaving things to chance,” He informed them. “Which is why I’ve brought you both these.” With a flourish, he withdrew two invitations. Emma took them, frowning a little. 

“Well, that makes getting in a little easier,” Neal crossed his arms. “And you’ve figured out how to open the portal, right?”

“There’s a powerful wand which I, er, came to possess,” Rumplestiltskin smirked and Neal’s lip curled. “Legend says, it can recreate any magic that’s ever been wielded. Now with a little work, I can use it to recreate whatever portal brought you here.” 

“Please do it quickly,” Emma said urgently. “We’ll be in and out before you know it. I want to get the hell out of here.”

“No kidding,” Neal said darkly, shooting Rumplestiltskin a sidelong glance. The two of them turned to make their way towards the exit when Rumplestiltskin stopped them.

“Wait. Not like that,” He giggled maniacally and with a deep flourish, Neal and Emma were enveloped in thick red smoke. Emma found herself wearing a deep red ballroom gown that swished around her ankles, her hair caught up in an intricate updo. She inhaled sharply when she saw Neal, looking particularly handsome wearing a formal brown jacket. The buttons were encased with gold and curiously, she thought she saw curious designs on the etchings of his vest—spinning wheels and stars. Neal did not look particularly happy about this little makeover but his eyes widened when he took in Emma’s full appearance.

“The savior can’t come this far and not play princess for a day,” Rumplestiltskin said smugly. 

“We’re not supposed to stick out,” Neal said in annoyance. “Barring your fun with dramatics, could you make us a little less conspicuous?” 

“Please,” Rumplestiltskin snorted. “It’s a miracle the timeline hasn’t imploded already. I’ve glamoured your features—no one will recognize you in the future.” His gaze fell on Neal once more, giving him that curious, unsettling look. 

Belle smiled at them. “Good luck. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“I suggest you get going,” Rumplestiltskin advised. “Before Snow White figures out a different way to get out of here. Once they’re back on track, everything else will be too.”

****

“Just when I thought the clothes here couldn’t get any worse,” Emma grumbled as she and Neal made their way into the ballroom. It wasn’t that the dress was uncomfortable, but she felt ridiculous. She’d never been a poofy dress sort of girl and she couldn’t imagine how bizarre she looked.

Neal glanced at her. “I dunno. You wear ‘princess’ pretty good. Kinda makes me wonder what would have happened if we’d grown up here.” 

Emma blinked. “Well, it’s not like we would’ve met,” She pointed out. “Weren’t you born hundreds of years before everyone else?”

“Good point,” Neal acknowledged. “And you’d be a princess. I’d be a peasant spinner’s son. Probably wouldn’t have worked out.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled wryly. Emma glanced around the ballroom—what would it have been like to grow up in a place like this? So full of beauty, of magic, of danger? It was unlike anything she’d ever known and yet, a part of her rather longed for it. 

At any rate, she would’ve grown up beloved and cherished.

Someone, dressed head to toe in gold and wearing a heavy crown approached them. “Greetings,” He acknowledged them cordially. “I am King Midas, father of the bride. Who do I have the honor to welcome into my home?”

Oh, crap. In all their preparations, they’d forgotten pseudonyms. 

Neal looked panicked. “I’m—Prince—”

A name popped into her head. “Caspian!” She interjected. “Prince Caspian.” She noticed a beautiful dark-haired girl glance at them with a peculiar expression on her face.

“And I’m Princess…” Emma thought frantically of princess names—Snow White, Belle, Ariel—damn it!

“Leia,” She spluttered. “Princess Leia.” She curtsied politely and Neal bowed, shooting her an exasperated look.

“I’m honored to have you both,” King Midas said solemnly. He turned towards his valet. “Announce Prince Caspian and Princess Leia!” 

“Caspian and Leia, seriously?” Neal muttered to Emma sotto voce. 

“I didn’t see you coming up with any brilliant aliases,” Emma returned through gritted teeth.

Neal’s eyes rolled towards the heavens. “We are so going to implode the timeline,” He told the ceiling blandly. 

Emma took his arm. “C’mon. We need to find David and get that stupid ring.” Her eyes flicked across the room. “There! He’s with Kathryn—or Abigail, or whatever her name is. Is she wearing it?”

Neal squinted. “Can’t tell. C’mon. We need to get a closer look.” He placed a hand on the small of Emma’s back, leading her towards the dance floor. 

She stared at him in confusion. “You can’t be serious…”

“Quick, subtle way to get to them,” Neal affirmed, taking her other hand. “Shall we dance, princess?” He grinned at her playfully and Emma was struck by the thought that she’d never been able to resist those dimples. Not since the first moment they met. 

Emma’s lips pursed. “Since when do peasant spinner’s sons know how to waltz?” She said faux haughtily, her eyes twinkling. 

“Uh, have you met my dad?” Neal returned. “No son of Rumplestiltskin’s would ever not learn how to waltz.” He swept her onto the dance floor and to Emma’s absolute shock, he waltzed with the rest of the nobility like a professional. Emma did her best to keep up with his graceful movements, but probably stepped on his feet more times than were appropriate. Neal was smiling at her, that soft little smile he only gave to her, and Emma’s heart began to pound. Neal always surprised her, always gave her the gift of the unexpected. Dancing with him was no different—it made her head spin and her heart leap. 

“Admit it,” Neal smirked. “This is nice.”

Emma tilted her head defiantly. “Okay,” She agreed. “If you admit that you actually want to go to your dad’s wedding.” 

Neal groaned. “Not this again…”

“Your dad struck the lottery with Belle,” Emma said firmly. “And they are completely crazy about each other. True love, I might add, which doesn’t come around that often. There’s no one in the entire world that Gold wants to see there than you.” 

Neal’s expression became muted. “And what then? I just forgive and forget everything that happened between us? Emma, it’s never gonna be the same as it was growing up here, not between me and him at least. We’ve gotten better since Neverland. Isn’t that enough?”

Emma exhaled, catching her breath as they twirled across the room. “Forgiveness doesn’t mean that all the mistakes are suddenly erased,” She told him. “It doesn’t mean that it’s all okay. Forgiveness says it matters. Forgiveness says it hurt, but I’m letting it go. I’m not letting it define me anymore.” 

His expression shifted and Emma knew he was thinking of how he’d left her, abandoned her for her great destiny and his own fear of magic. Without thinking, her hand drifted up from his arm to touch his cheek in comfort. She met his dark eyes and suddenly she felt eighteen again. 

Emma quickly looked away. “Charming’s disappeared,” She said swiftly, pausing their dance and taking a glass of champagne from a servant. “Wait—there he is!” Sure enough, David had returned, tucking something in his pocket. Neal and Emma shared a look of understanding. 

“All right,” Neal affirmed. “Follow my lead.” He headed towards David boldly, putting on his salesman smile, the hokey grin he gave every convenience store owner or night-time guard, right before he picked their pocket. 

“Your majesty,” Neal greeted him jovially, patting his shoulder. “Let me offer my congratulations for this marriage and wish you good fortune and prosperity.” 

Charming glanced at him warily. “Thank you. I’m sure we’ll have a lifetime of happiness.” His words were rather sardonic.

Emma smiled brightly. “We’re just so excited for you, your highness,” She gushed. “Truly, it’s a match made in heaven!” She giggled and tottered slightly, splashing the contents of her champagne flute all over him. 

“Oh forgive me!” She cried out. “I do apologize, Prince James, I believe I’ve had too much to drink!”

“My clumsy fiancée,” Neal smiled patronizingly, withdrawing a handkerchief and attempting to dry Charming off. “I guess she’s let the celebration get the best of her, please accept our apologies!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Charming uncomfortably shrugged Neal off. “It doesn’t make a difference, really…” He sighed a little and bowed shortly to them, walking away.

Emma turned towards Neal, a question in her gaze. He grinned at her, Charming’s ring between his fingers. He slipped it to her easily.

“Now for phase two,” Neal murmured. “Getting his attention and running like Hell. We—”

Before Neal could finish his sentence, the doors to the ballroom flung open. Regina strode forward, in full queen regalia, party-goers scattering before her in fear. King Midas stiffened but a mask of cordiality enveloped his features and he went to greet her formally.

“What a pleasure, my queen,” He bowed. “I—thank you, for honoring my daughter with your presence.”

Regina smiled silkily. “And thank you, for your generous hospitality. I hope you don’t mind, I brought some friends.” Her black guards followed her entrance and Emma swallowed.

“Regina’s here,” She whispered urgently. “That’s not good…not part of the plan…”

“With any good con, there’s a time to plan and a time to improvise,” Neal said back to her. “C’mon, Emma—nothing’s changed, we have to get your dad’s attention…”

But Emma had frozen. Her heart had stopped when the leader of the black knights had removed his helmet, scanning the party coldly.

Graham.

“What is it?” Neal wanted to know. “What are you looking at? Emma!”

“Hey!” Charming shouted. He started to stride across the room towards them, face full of fury. “You two—come here!” 

“Shit,” Neal swore. “Looks like he’s on to us—Emma, we need to go—now!” 

Emma couldn’t speak. It was Graham, Graham, living and breathing, staring at her with great suspicion as Charming barreled towards them. Adrenaline taking over, she broke away from Neal, running towards the huntsman, grabbing his hand. 

“You have to come with me, now!” She shouted. 

Graham stared at her. “Who—who are you?” He asked falteringly.

“Graham, please!” Emma begged. “You have to trust me—I can save you! We need to get Snow White and—”

“What did you say?”

Regina stepped in front of Graham. She licked her lips. “Well, well, well. A friend of Snow White’s, are we?”

“Emma, run!” Neal shouted, dodging Charming’s furious blow and ducking behind a bewildered party-goer. “I’ll get the ring to Snow White!” Emma gripped the ring tightly in her palm, as Charming followed Neal’s bluff, chasing him out of the ballroom. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Charming shouted, close behind Neal’s heels. Emma attempted to make a break for it and was promptly snatched by Graham. 

Emma turned towards the Evil Queen desperately. “Regina, I—”

“Is a bit informal, wouldn’t you say?” Regina demanded coolly. “Show some respect. It’s your Majesty.” 

Emma tried to break free from Graham but his grip was like iron. She looked at him imploringly but his face was impassive. Her heart sank. What had she been thinking? He didn’t know who he was. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Regina said calmly. “Until you tell me where Snow White is.”

Emma remained silent. Neal had disappeared. 

“And here I thought we were becoming old friends,” Regina smirked. “Very well. Take her to the dungeons. Let’s see if a night in the cold and damp loosens her tongue.”


	4. Chapter 4

Neal had taken her to a closed amusement park for their first date.

She’d given him points for originality. She’d never intended on going anywhere with him, after stealing his stolen car and their close shave with law enforcement. But something about Neal’s easy smile and eager enthusiasm had warmed her. 

She’d also been impressed at his talent for picking locks.

They’d become friends that night—something Emma hadn’t had for a long time. She’d never depended on anyone before. But that moment, sitting there on a lit up carousel, when Neal explained to her what ‘home’ meant…the way he looked at her, enchanting and familiar all at once…she’d wondered if she finally had come home.

We never found Tallahassee.

The guard—not Graham, thankfully—shoved her into the cell roughly. She’d been afraid something worse would happen to her when they disappeared into the dungeons and Regina had made a flippant comment about being overdressed for a prison cell and her soldiers’ subsequent sniggers. But despite Graham’s loyalty to the Queen, he’d let her change privately into a dress that felt like straw. 

When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she heard a voice. “Are you all right?”

Someone in the next cell. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks. I’m Leia.” 

The woman’s voice was wry. “I wish I could say it was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, but under the circumstances, I get it,” Emma replied grimly. “What’s your name?”

“I dare not speak in here. The Queen doesn’t know who I am. My silence is the only thing keeping my family safe,” Her voice was low and husky, yet determined. Emma respected that.

“She’s pretty ruthless, huh,” Emma commented. “Here—are you hungry? I swiped it off a food tray on my way down.” She slipped a roll through the bars and felt the woman’s soft, yet rough hands take it. Emma had learned at a young age how to steal food and how to last on a little of it. 

She got a glimpse of the woman and inhaled sharply.

“What? What is it?” 

“I saw you in the village,” Emma said quietly. “With the Queen. I wanted to help, but—”

“It’s all right,” The woman said in understanding. “If you had tried to free me, you’d just have ended up in here a day sooner.”

“What did she put you in here for?” Emma asked.

“I knew where Snow White was hiding,” The woman replied. “But I refused to tell the Queen.”

Emma’s eyebrows rose. “You gave up your freedom to ensure Snow White’s?”

“Yeah,” The woman nodded. “I believe her to be innocent.”

She had good instincts, this woman. And she was an ally of Emma’s mother. “How long are you in for?” She asked carefully.

“Same as you,” The woman’s voice became hollow. “Just one more night.”

Emma blinked. “Really? One night? Why? Is Regina going soft?”

“No,” The woman said quietly. “One night, because tomorrow everyone in here is to be executed.”

XXXX

Suffice it to say, things had not gone according to plan. 

Luckily for Neal, he was a master of improvisation. Not as good as Emma perhaps, but he was the son of the theatrical Rumplestiltskin. And every good plan needed a backup. 

Despite the stolen horse, the twisted path, the various obstacles Neal had overcome, Charming pursued him relentlessly. He had to give Emma’s father credit—this man was definitely someone who knew the value of persistence. 

When they were deep enough in the woods for comfort, Neal pulled on the reins of his horse, stopping short. He dismounted and made a faux dash for it—shortly before Charming tackled him. 

“You’d have been better off on horseback,” Charming grunted. “Now—where is my ring?” 

“Funny thing,” Neal coughed, thinking frantically. At this point, Emma still had possession of the ring. “I don’t exactly have it.” 

“Don’t get cute,” Charming snarled. “You and your little accomplice lifted it off me during the party. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“Yeah, but you were a little slow on the uptake,” Neal managed a grin, despite Charming’s arms around his throat. “We already sold that ring to a guest at the party—one Snow White.”

Charming’s brow furrowed. “Snow White? The bandit?”

“Yep,” Neal nodded. “We had a little deal, see. I was to be her decoy while she made off (like a bandit) with the ring. I mean, you can search me, but it won’t do you much good. I don’t have it.”

Charming did not look pleased at this information. He roughly searched Neal’s pockets but found nothing. 

“All right you,” Charming growled. “Start talking. Where can I find this Snow White?”

Neal smiled.

XXXX

Snow White walked down the forest path. She was deep in thought, though she kept to the tree’s shadows, keeping an eye out for Regina’s soldiers. She glanced behind her at the sound of a tree branch—and as she took a step, something cracked and a large rope net captured her and pulled her upwards. 

There was a self-satisfied chuckle as the prince—Prince James, wasn’t it—stepped forward. “You know for someone who’s been on the run for so long, you weren’t hard to capture.”

“Is this the only way you can catch a woman?” Snow White snarled. “By entrapping her?”

“It’s the only way to catch thieving scum,” He said, a little smugly.

“Aren’t you a real Prince Charming,” Snow said scathingly.

He quirked a brow. “I have a name, you know.”

“Don’t care. Charming suits you. Now cut me down, Charming,” Snow ordered in a voice that betrayed her royal upbringing. Only princesses were that bossy.

“Why would I do that?” Charming revealed a Wanted poster and Snow White tensed. “Relax. I’m not gonna turn you in. All I want is the ring you stole.”

She snorted. “Not the jewelry type.”

“Indeed. I noticed,” Charming replied sardonically.

Snow rolled her eyes. “I don’t have your ring.”

“Then, why don’t I believe you?” Charming challenged. At this, Neal coughed and emerged from his hiding place in the bushes.

“Yeah, see about that,” Neal announced to the general assembly. “Kinda lied about that whole ‘I sold it to Snow White’ thing.”

“What?!” Charming thundered.

“CUT ME DOWN!” Snow yelled.

“You’ve just blown your last chance, thief,” Charming informed Neal who raised his hands in surrender. 

“Look, we needed Snow White to break into the castle,” Neal explained. “My uh…my date for the party has your ring. She’s been captured by Regina—who thinks she’s helping you,” He nodded towards Snow White, who remained nonplussed. 

“So what,” Snow White said sarcastically. “You want to trade me for her? I don’t think so.”

“Nah,” Neal folded his arms. “I just want your help breaking into the castle and your help getting her free.” Charming glared at him. 

“All right,” Snow White relented. “You cut me loose, I’ll help you. I can get us in there. You get your girl, you get your ring, and I never have to see your charming face again.” She shook her net in emphasis.

Neal looked towards Charming. His lips twisted. “Fine. You’ve got a deal. But this better be the truth.” 

“As much of it as I can give you,” Neal said firmly. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

XXXX

Neal had little trouble stealing a cart from a nearby villager. He had to give himself a slight shake of the head; considering all the time he’d spent convincing Tamara that he’d gone straight. Old habits died hard.

They reached the castle at nightfall and Snow immediately pointed out the heavy concentration of guards. She told them squarely that she would return with help and to wait right there. It had made Neal nervous for a moment, until he saw the look of determined zeal on the princess’ face. She had business to attend to in that castle—business with Regina. 

Things seemed to be progressing well on the front between Charming and Snow. They traded caustic barbs, but Neal could sense the attraction. 

Deciding to probe the issue, Neal ventured, “Think your princess will be worried as to where you are?”

Charming blinked at him. “My what?”

Neal grinned. “Princess Abigail. You’re betrothed.”

“Oh, right,” Charming cleared his throat. “I doubt it. She’s…otherwise detained.” 

“Hm,” Neal commented and Charming cast him a look of irritation.

“Neither one of us are exactly thrilled with the match-up,” He admitted. “I always thought I’d marry for love. And this is—it’s just a contract. A business merger. Now I don’t even know if True Love exists anymore.”

“It does,” Neal said automatically. 

Charming gave a half-smile. “You’re talking about Princess Leia? The girl we’re rescuing?”

Neal hesitated. Were he and Emma true loves? He wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like they’d used True Love’s kiss to test that theory. He’d nearly died once, but it was Henry who’d brought him back to life, not Emma. 

“I don’t know,” He admitted. “I know I love her…but we’re…complicated.”

“Complicated,” Charming said skeptically. 

Neal shifted uncomfortably. “We’ve got a history. Mistakes were made. Mostly on my end.”

“Hm,” Charming eyed him. “Well, you seemed pretty cozy at the ball.” 

Neal half-shrugged. “Yeah, well, one night’s not going to fix years of heartbreak and hurt,” He sighed. 

“You broke her heart?” Charming raised a brow.

“Yeah,” Neal admitted. “I did.” They were quiet for a long moment before Charming spoke again.

“Well, in any case,” He glanced at Neal. “You’re doing all you can to save her—tricking me, roping the famed Snow White into this. That should count for something.” 

Neal shrugged. “I’m not trying to earn my way into her affections. She knows I love her—I love her enough to be with her if she chooses and to let her go if she wants to move on. Either way…I’ll always be there for her.” 

XXXX

Emma twiddled David’s ring idly between her fingers. She tried it on for size and immediately slid it off—her mother’s fingers were a good deal daintier than hers. 

“What’s that?” Her cellmate asked curiously. 

“It’s my parents’,” Emma explained. “I guess you could call it their wedding ring.” 

“And they entrusted you with it?”

“Sort of,” Emma sighed. “I need to get it back to them.”

“Being away from family is a terrible, terrible thing,” The woman turned a little, sadness filling her features. 

“Yeah, it is,” Emma thought of Henry.

“The longer I’m separated from them—the pain doesn’t dull. It worsens. Maybe because I know I’ll never see them again,” The woman’s voice broke a little. 

“If my mom was here, she would tell me to have hope,” Emma told her. “Maybe you should too. Who knows? Maybe you will end up with them again.” She’d fairly made up her mind to rescue the woman, as soon as she plotted her own escape. 

“I don’t think so,” The woman said in a resigned voice. “I’m fairly certain that they already think I’m dead. And soon that will be true.” 

“Maybe not,” Emma said eagerly, noticing something shining on the ground. “Give me your spoon.” She entwined a stray wire around both spoons. It would’ve been easier if she had a hair pin or one of Neal’s clever little inventions…

“What are you doing?” The woman asked, intrigued. 

“It’s all about the tumblers,” Emma smiled to herself, thinking of Neal. After a little bit of finagling, her cell door swung open. 

“You did it!” The woman gasped. Without hesitation, Emma went to the woman’s cell and began unlocking it herself.

XXXX

Apparently Red Riding Hood was a werewolf. 

This was news to Neal but at this point in life, he’d learn to roll with the unexpected. She was a close friend of Snow White’s and had agreed to help them break into the castle. As Neal watched her take out the guards on the side entrance and the dungeon guards, Neal made a mental note never to get on this woman’s bad side. 

“Which way is Leia’s cell?” Charming grimaced. “We should’ve asked the guard before knocking him out.”

“No worries,” Neal said calmly as they strode down the hall. “If I know Emma, she’ll have planned her own escape by now…”

As if on cue, they turned a corner and nearly ran into Emma. 

“Case in point,” Neal grinned. “How’s it going, Emma?” 

Emma shrugged. “Pretty typical Friday night, all things considered.” She raised her little metal lock-pick and Neal laughed. 

“It’s all about the tumblers,” They said together. 

“Okay. You guys got a way out of here?” Emma asked getting back to business.

“Follow me,” Red directed. “Snow told me where to meet her.”

A beautiful woman came up behind Emma. “Thank you, Leia,” She said gratefully and Emma nodded towards her. 

Neal raised his eyebrows and as they walked, Emma grabbed his shoulder.

“She was to be executed in the morning. I couldn’t just leave her there to die,” She said defiantly.

“You don’t see me complaining,” Neal replied. “I would’ve done the same thing.” 

Her defenses dropped and Emma’s shoulders relaxed. Neal squeezed her shoulder in companionship and comfort and they kept moving. 

XXXX

“Where did Snow go?” Charming asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Red said in frustration. “She was supposed to meet us here!” 

“Well, we can’t leave without her,” Emma eyed the ring she was wearing. “You said she agreed to help you guys—you don’t suppose she had a different motivation?”

Red and Neal looked at each other. She bit her lip. “Um…you don’t think she would’ve tried to take on the Queen by herself, would she?”

“Shit!” Emma swore. “That is exactly what she would do. C’mon, we have to move!” 

They ran down the hallway, pounding up the winding steps. They’d nearly reached the royal chambers when someone emerged from the shadows, holding a captive Snow White.

Graham. 

“Let me go!” Snow demanded, thrashing. “You have to let me go!”

Something flickered on Graham’s face. “Snow, please be quiet,” He requested. “You’ll wake the Queen.”

Emma dashed towards him. “Graham, please,” She begged. “I know—I know you don’t know me—but you have to let her go!”

“I know,” Graham said quietly.

Emma stopped short. The rest of the group froze in place.

“Regina has a hold of my heart,” Graham said in a low voice. “I have no choice. My life is in her hands—one squeeze of her hand, and I’m dead.”

Ice gripped Emma’s chest. She was having trouble breathing. One squeeze of her hand and I’m dead. Realization flooded Emma.

Regina had killed Graham.

“So—you can’t help us?” Neal took a hesitant step. 

The woman’s eyes flashed. “He has to help us,” She grabbed an axe from the wall. “Or he’ll regret it!”

“Don’t—” Emma’s voice rose an octave. “Don’t.” She put a hand up and the woman reluctantly lowered her weapon. At this, Graham cleared his throat and pushed Snow White towards them. 

Snow White turned towards him. “But—can’t we help you?” She pleaded. “This is—this is the second time you’ve saved my life, we have to save yours!”

“Snow’s right,” Emma swallowed. “Please Graham—what if we found her vault? Took your heart back?” She said wildly. 

“Emma,” Neal said quietly. “We can’t interfere with—”

“We have to!” Emma whirled towards him. “Don’t you understand?! Regina—Regina will kill him!” She met Neal’s eyes, trying to force him to understand. Regina will kill him…Regina did kill him…

“You must leave,” Graham said, his voice oddly dull. “I’ve accepted my fate. You must go, before she wakens. Leave now. Save the kingdom.”

“We will,” Snow said determinedly. “And we’ll save you.” She raced down the hallway, the others in tow. Neal made to follow her but noticed Emma had not moved. 

“But—we can’t just—” Her voice broke.

Graham’s smile was sad. “You seem to know me,” He told her gently. “But perhaps you are thinking of someone else. I would’ve remembered you.” 

“Emma,” Neal said softly. “Emma, we have to go.”

Wrenching herself away from Graham’s haunted gaze, she took Neal’s hand and they ran down the hall.


	5. Chapter 5

Charming and Snow were talking, a bit warmly in Emma’s opinion. She could see the sparks between them, and felt abject relief that they seemed to be back on track. Her existence seemed to be in less danger now. 

They’d made a brief camp after escaping the castle, rejoining Red Riding Hood and a few of the dwarves in the forest. They all seemed to be grateful to take a breath, though the woman Emma had rescued sat by herself, looking wistful and sad. 

Neal approached Emma, gently putting a hand on her shoulder. He hadn’t said a word about the incident with Graham, for which she was grateful. She wasn’t ready to talk about it, instead choosing to poke the campfire with a stick. 

“What should we do about…” Neal nodded towards the woman. 

“I don’t know,” Emma admitted. “I couldn’t just leave her to die.”

“I know you couldn’t,” Neal said gently. “But it does cause time stream problems. Any ideas?”

Emma bit her lip. “She’ll want to go back to her family…but her family probably thinks she’s dead…” Inspiration struck. “What if we took her with us?”

Neal glanced over at her. “Took her with us? Do you think her family’s in Storybrooke?”

“Where else could they be?” Emma asked eagerly. She stood, going towards the woman taking a seat next to her.

“So, here’s the deal,” Emma said without preamble. “I can’t take you back to your family now. But I can…in the future.”

The woman eyed her suspiciously. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” 

“It’s…complicated,” Neal coughed. “Short version is, we want you to come with us. To our home.” 

The woman balked. “All due respect, but I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m going back to my family.” Her back straightened and Emma had to admire the steel in her spine. 

“That’s gonna happen,” Emma tried. “But you have to—go the long way…” She could tell from the wry skepticism in the woman’s gaze that she wasn’t buying it. With a sigh, Emma lifted a tree branch and promptly knocked the woman out.

“Jesus, Emma!” Neal exploded. 

“Well, we have to get her there,” Emma said defensively. “We can’t drag her kicking and screaming…” 

“Hey!” Charming said suddenly, heading over towards them. “Where’s my ring?” 

Emma blinked. She hadn’t noticed, but the ring had disappeared from her finger. She glanced at Neal questioningly. He shook his head in response. 

“I think Snow lifted it off me,” Emma said darkly. “Where did she go?” 

“To get water,” Charming crossed his arms. 

“Or to run off with the ring,” Emma replied, inspiration suddenly striking. “Wait a second—how close are we to the Troll Bridge?”

“About half a mile,” Charming replied anxiously. “Was she going to take it there?”

Emma grinned. “That’s right. To get some money for it…if you hurry, you can catch up with her!” At that, Charming barreled off, chasing after Snow White. Emma smiled in satisfaction. 

“Very slick,” Neal said approvingly. “You’re getting them to meet up at the Troll Bridge.”

“Mmhmm,” Emma grinned. “Snow’s got that fairy dust thing that will get them out of that little meeting with the trolls…and then, they are back to page one of their love story.” She sighed a little, thinking of the way Snow and Charming looked at each other. It took them a while to accept their feelings and their path was not without its obstacles—but they got there, in the end. They found home in each other. Their own version of Tallahassee. 

“All right,” Neal hoisted the woman over his shoulder. “Let’s go home now.”

XXXX

“We did it,” Emma announced, striding into the Dark Castle. Rumplestiltskin was observing something bubble in a glass bottle. He smiled at them craftily.

“Your parents are together?” He prompted. 

“They’re right back on track,” Emma reported. “We’re ready to go.”

Rumplestiltskin eyed the woman slung over Neal’s shoulder. “And I see you have company.” 

“We’re saving her,” Emma balled her fists. “Bringing her back home.” 

The imp sighed dramatically. “On your own head be it. I won’t remember a thing. This,” He withdrew the potion with flourish. “Is a forgetting potion. I know too much of my own future—never a good thing, you know.” His eyes zeroed in on Neal, who didn’t meet his stare. 

“Well, how’s that portal coming?” Emma wanted to know. 

“I’m afraid,” Rumplestiltskin said silkily. “That the only one who can reopen the portal is the one who used it. You wouldn’t happen to be able to wield magic, would you?” He tossed her the wand and Emma swallowed. She glanced at Neal, who shook his head. 

“I—I don’t know if I can do it,” She said uncertainly. 

“Well, I suggest you figure it out soon,” Rumplestiltskin giggled. “Because otherwise, you’ll be here permanently.” 

“Emma,” Neal said firmly. “You don’t have to do it. You shouldn’t have to mess with that stuff.” Neal approached Rumplestiltskin, gently setting the woman down on a table. 

“You’re full of crap,” He snarled. “You’re telling me the Dark One, the magical scourge of the Enchanted Forest for the past 500 years can’t manage a measly time spell? Made by one of your own apprentices? Bullshit. You’re getting us out of here.” 

The two stared at each other and to Emma’s shock, she saw something vulnerable flit across Rumplestiltskin’s face. Something she knew.

Recognition. 

“Very well,” Rumplestiltskin said softly. “I’ll enact your spell. For a price.” 

“What price?” Emma demanded. 

“I only want one thing,” Rumplestiltskin stared at Neal hard. “Your name. Give me your name, and you will be free to go.” 

The air seemed to freeze and Emma’s heart stopped. Neal’s gaze never wavered from Rumplestiltskin’s and somehow Emma knew that if he answered, “Neal Cassidy”, the sorcerer would know it was lie. 

Neal took a deep breath. “All right.”

“Don’t!” Emma burst out. “It’s not worth it.” 

“It’ll get us home,” Neal said stubbornly. “I don’t want you to have to use magic.” Something about his words bothered Emma—she knew she had magical abilities, knew that there were things she could do, but she hadn’t taken into account how much Neal hated magic. Neal saw magic as a dark and intoxicating drug, something to be avoided at all costs. The mentality worried her. 

“Open the portal,” Neal said through gritted teeth. “We do this on my terms. Open the portal and I’ll give you my name.” 

Rumplestiltskin held out his hand, waiting for Emma to give the wand back. Emma stared at it for a long moment, willing for her magic to work, so they could avoid this—but of course, it failed her. She gave the wand to Rumplestiltskin. 

The wand glimmered and Rumplestiltskin drew the wand in a wide arc. The portal opened and Emma could see a blurry image of Storybrooke. 

“Emma,” Neal said calmly. “Grab the woman. Go through the portal.”

“I’m not leaving here without you—” Emma started to say.

“Emma, do it,” Neal suddenly shouted. His expression was tense and she tried to swallow her fear. This was between Rumplestiltskin and him. She looped the woman’s unconscious arm around her shoulder, dragging her towards the portal. 

“Neal…” Emma tried to say.

“It’s okay,” He said tiredly. “I’ll see you on the other side.” He gave her a pained grin that didn’t meet his eyes.

Emma stood rooted to her place. Impatiently, Rumplestiltskin flicked his wrist and Emma fell backwards, pulling herself and the woman into the portal. 

XXXX

Neal watched Rumplestiltskin carefully. A thousand cons danced through his mind, each one more foolhardy than the last. There was no getting out of this. This was a lock he couldn’t pick, a trap he couldn’t talk his way out of. 

“And now,” Rumplestiltskin said softly. “Your name.” 

Neal exhaled slowly. “Why do you want my name?”

Rumplestiltskin did not respond for a while. Neal realized that for the first time, Rumplestiltskin was not waving his hands around, dancing in place, every emotion playing out through his body. He was perfectly still. 

“Names have power,” He finally answered and Neal couldn’t disagree with that.

“Let me tell you a story, Rumplestiltskin,” He started to say, folding his arms. “A story about a poor spinner and his son.” 

Rumplestiltskin’s eyes widened. 

“There was a war,” Neal’s voice was low and hard. “The duke of the frontlands conscripting every child at fourteen to fight for him. Most of the son’s friends had already gone. Many had died. And the spinner was desperate to save his son, so he made a deal with the Dark One, selling his soul for power.” 

“Who are you?” Rumplestiltskin suddenly hissed, snatching the front of Neal’s shirt. “Answer me! We had a deal!”

Neal’s voice never wavered. “The son loved his father,” He said coldly. “More than anything else in the world. Enough to leave all that he knew behind. He asked his father to give up the Dark One’s curse, to come with him to a world without magic, where they could be a family again. Where they could have a home.”

“How do you know this?!” Rumplestiltskin bellowed. 

“But the father betrayed his son!” Neal replied, his voice measured and controlled. “The father chose power over his own flesh and blood, released his son into the void, clung to the dagger that contained his magic. The father abandoned him.”

Rumplestiltskin released Neal, backing away from him. Neal had never seen him look so scared. 

“You asked for my name,” Neal’s voice was raw. “I am the son of the spinner, the child you left alone in a world without magic. My name is Baelfire.” 

Rumplestiltskin sagged against the table. He made a small, strangled noise in the back of his throat, his eyes filling with tears. 

“My boy,” He whispered. “It’s you…it’s really you…”

Neal said nothing. The expression on his father’s face was disconcerting, pure vulnerability. Hope. 

“I—I did it,” His breaths became quicker. “I found you…you’re real, you’re alive…” 

Neal jerked his head towards the forgetting potion. “You have to take that,” He said bitterly. “Or you never will find me.” 

“No, no,” Rumplestiltskin said frantically. “I won’t, I won’t…I won’t leave you again, Bae.”

“You have to take it!” Neal shouted at him. “You have to forget!”

“No!” Rumplestiltskin approached his son desperately, his hands raised to touch his face but Neal flinched. His father’s hands lowered.

“We can be a family again,” Rumplestiltskin begged. “I can change my plans. I can have you here with me, now, and—”

“Papa!” Neal shouted. “Nothing can change. Between Emma and me, we’ve already put too much in danger. Nothing else can change.”

The desperation had not left Rumplestiltskin’s face but he had stilled at the word ‘Papa’. Neal realized it had been over 200 years since he’d been called that, and his heart broke for his father. 

“Papa,” Neal said gently. “Nothing can change. If I stayed, I’d put my future with Emma at risk. I’d put—I’d put my own son in danger or never existing. Nothing’s worth that.” His hand slightly shaking, he reached and put his hand on Rumplestiltskin’s shoulder. His father stared at him and for the first time since they’d arrived in the Enchanted Forest, Neal saw the man behind the monster. 

Rumplestiltskin’s voice was small. “Your…son?”

Neal nodded. His father exhaled, trying to catch his breath. His own scaly palm took Neal’s, squeezing it hard.

“You’ve…you’ve forgiven me?” Rumplestiltskin asked, his voice raspy. “For what I’ve done—for what I will do?”

Neal thought of all that they’d been through in Neverland. His father’s determination to save Henry, even in the face of his own death. His father falling in love with a woman who was good and kind. His father wanting to be a better man for her and for his son. He thought of his father, nervously asking him to attend his wedding, and Neal’s subsequent response—a cold, “I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah,” Neal’s voice was hoarse. “Yeah. I did forgive you—will forgive you. But you have to take that potion. You’ll see me again. I promise.”

Releasing Rumplestiltskin’s hand, Neal backed away, heading towards the portal. He watched his father, his hand trembling, lift the potion off the table. 

“I don’t want to forget this,” Rumplestiltskin burst out, his voice breaking. “I can’t watch you go like this again…not again…”

“It’ll be all right, Papa,” Neal swallowed. “Turn around. Take the potion. You’re not abandoning me…I’ll see you soon.” 

His father tore himself away, turning round. Neal watched him swallow the potion and as soon as he had, Neal leapt through the portal. The portal immediately dissipated, leaving the sorcerer alone. 

Rumplestiltskin stood for a few moments before a look of confusion crossed his face. He touched his cheek, feeling the moisture and wondered why he was crying.

XXXX

“Neal!”

Neal was greeted with a fierce hug that nearly knocked him over. Emma held him tightly, breathing him in, sighing in relief. He hugged her back, stroking her hair. 

“I was afraid he wouldn’t let you leave,” Emma’s voice was muffled in his shoulder. “I was scared the portal would close and you wouldn’t be able to get back.” 

“It’s all right,” Neal resisted the urge to kiss her head, afraid to break the moment. “I’m all right.”

Emma took a step back from him, but Neal noticed that she still remained in his arms. “Did you do it? Did you tell him your name?”

Neal exhaled, twirling his fingers around a lock of her hair. “Yeah. But it doesn’t matter. He took the forgetting potion, everything should be back to normal.”

“Good,” Emma said in relief. “Leroy helped me carry the woman to my apartment, she’ll rest there for a little bit. Let’s go see Henry—and—and I want to see my parents.”

Neal nodded. “Yeah…I kinda do too.” 

****

“Oh, Emma!” Mary Margaret embraced her warmly. “You weren’t answering your cell-phone. We were worried!”

“I’m fine,” Emma assured her. “I’m home.” They’d practically sprinted to the dinner and Emma had raced headfirst into her parents’ arms. She smiled at her baby brother, who gazed at her solemnly. Neal ruffled Henry’s hair affectionately and noticed his father and Belle standing in a corner booth, near the back of the room. 

“So wait, what happened exactly?” David asked them both. 

Emma and Neal looked at each other. “You tell them,” Neal prompted. “I’m gonna…” He nodded towards the corner booth. Gold was eyeing them carefully. 

Emma nodded and Neal walked over to them. Belle noticed him immediately, smiling brightly. 

“Hi Neal,” She greeted. “I hear you had something of an adventure!”

“Something like that,” Neal cleared his throat. “So, uh…when…when’s your ceremony?”

Hope lit in Gold’s eyes and Belle leaned forward eagerly. “It’s in a few hours,” She smiled. “We wanted to attend the new prince’s christening.”

“Cool, cool,” Neal cleared his throat again. “I, uh…I’ll be there.”

Relief flooded Gold’s features. He took a deep breath. “You’re—you’re sure?”

“I’ll be there,” Neal repeated. “I wouldn’t miss it.” He took his father’s hand and squeezed it. Something akin to recognition, perhaps a moment of déjà vu flitted in Gold’s expression. He squeezed his son’s hand back, while Belle beamed at them both. 

XXXX

“I can’t believe your mom named your brother after me,” Neal commented as they walked along the road, leading the woman to the diner. “I’m honored and slightly confused.”

“Cassidy’s a good name,” Emma replied, patting her former cellmate’s arm soothingly. “Now look, I know it’s confusing, but you don’t have to be afraid. No one’s going to hurt you here and we’re gonna help you find your family.”

The woman was shivering. “There’s such—such strange magic here,” She admitted. “I just—I don’t see why I can trust you! You’ve taken me from my home!” 

“I promise you, your family is here,” Emma said firmly. “Everyone from the fairytale world is here. We’ll find them. You just have to be patient.”

The woman set her jaw and Emma sighed. She was still clearly not going to tell them her name but a good first step would be to ask Granny if she recognized her. Even if the woman gave Granny descriptions, they could still probably find her family around somewhere. 

They walked into the diner and the woman stopped short.

“That’s the Evil Queen,” She pointed towards Regina in agitation. “You said it was safe here!”

Emma swallowed. She wanted to assure her, tell her former cellmate that Regina had changed, that she was different now. But Emma could not escape Graham’s haunted gaze. Her throat tightened. 

At that precise moment, Robin Hood, who’d been seated next to Regina, glanced in their direction. His face turned white.

“Marian?!” He said in disbelief. 

The woman gasped. “Robin!”

The two rushed towards each other and Robin enveloped her in his arms. He cradled her face tenderly and tears leaked from Marian’s eyes. 

“I thought you were dead,” Robin’s voice broke. “I thought I would never see you again.”

“And I you,” Marian wiped her eyes, hugging him again. “Oh, Robin…”

“Mama?” Roland had hopped off the chair and approached her cautiously. Marian knelt down, scooping him up. 

“Roland, oh my baby, Roland.” She kissed his hair. Robin put his arms around both of them, burying his face in Marian’s hair. 

Regina watched them numbly. Slowly, she walked towards Emma, taking her aside. 

“You?” She whispered. “You did this?”

The hurt and vulnerability in her voice nearly made Emma sympathetic. Regina had gotten so close to Robin Hood, the feelings that they had shared had gentled her. But Graham’s sorrow flashed through Emma’s mind.

“Tell me one thing, Regina,” Emma’s voice was hard and unforgiving. “Did you murder Graham?”

Regina took a step back in shock. The guilt and defiance in her eyes was enough answer for Emma. 

“You never told me,” Emma said bitterly. “You never owned up to it—I thought were changing…” 

Regina turned away from her and fled out of the diner.

XXXX

“C’mon, Neal, we’re gonna be late,” Emma took his arm, briskly heading down the forest path. 

“Hey, you were the one who took forever with her hair,” Neal pointed out, quickening his pace. “I was ready for ages before you decided to grace me with your appearance.” It wasn’t often that Neal wore a suit, particularly an Armani suit (generously donated by his father), but when he did, he wore it well. Emma had no complaints with his appearance. 

“I’m allowed to be a girl every once in a while,” Emma tossed her hair defiantly. “And a wedding is definitely cause for that.” She fluffed her curls a little bit musingly—she’d missed her golden curls. Her dress had also been helpfully supplied by Gold (who knew a disturbing amount about couture labels, which probably explained why Belle was dressed to the nines every time they met). It was the same shade of red as her trusty leather jacket, which made her feel slightly at home. It was by some designer whose name Emma couldn’t pronounce—Ereganto something or other—but the overall effect was pretty good. It had an almost Grecian feel to it, an off the shoulder cut that draped against her form snugly. Not to mention, it was particularly comfortable. 

Neal, at least, couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of her. 

“Hey,” Neal cleared his throat. “Just wanna…thank you. Thanks for coming with me. I was—nervous about coming alone.” 

“Don’t sweat it,” Emma smiled at him. “I’m always up for a wedding.”

She squeezed his arm again in solidarity. Neal had been nervous about this wedding all evening. She wasn’t sure what he was afraid—wasn’t even sure if Neal knew what he was afraid of. But she felt it in her bones that Neal would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t attend his father’s wedding. Which was why she’d agreed to accompany him there—not as a date or anything, but to show her support. She knew how scary it was letting a parent who abandoned you back into your life. 

They reached the grove in due time and Emma had to admit, she was impressed. She’d been a little worried that her heels would get stuck in the dirt as she walked, but remarkably, the stroll through the woods had been smooth—it wouldn't surprise her a bit if Rumplestiltskin had somehow magicked their path and the clearing to provide absolutely no obstruction. Sure enough, the leaves in the grove had been swept away, sparkling lights and paper candles hung in the trees, and the stars danced above them. An old record player stood in the corner, playing something classical that Emma didn’t recognize. 

“Wow,” Emma’s eyebrows rose. “I gotta hand it to your dad—he definitely knows how to throw a wedding.”

“The magic additions are mine,” A quiet voice intoned. “But the rest is all Belle.”

Neal and Emma turned to see Gold, clad in a particularly fancy suit, watching them cautiously. He approached Neal slowly, taking a deep breath. 

“Thank you for coming,” Gold’s voice was a little thick. “It means everything. To have you here, to stand next to me.” 

Neal smiled. “I wouldn’t have missed it.” He winked at Emma who arched an eyebrow at him. 

Gold turned towards Emma. “Miss Swan—would you mind standing next to Belle when she arrives?”

“Sure,” Emma said agreeably. “If that’s what Belle wants. Anyone else coming?” 

“A few more friends of Belle’s,” Gold affirmed, looking a little uncomfortable. Belle had connected with several people in Storybrooke—with her affable and charming nature, it was no wonder she’d made friends. It would take the solitary Mr. Gold a little to get used to it, however. 

Slowly, more and more people arrived, standing in a wide circle in the grove. Neal seemed to relax, once he realized how nervous his father was, and he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Archie smiled in greeting, looking pleased at Neal’s presence. 

“Emma looks very lovely,” Gold commented and Neal nodded in agreement. There was a sort of undertone in Gold’s comment that was almost warning—perhaps warning Neal not to let opportunity slip through his fingers. 

From what Neal had learned of Gold and Belle’s beginnings, his father knew from experience. 

The record player scratched and new music began to play—Neal recognized it as Ave Maria, an instrumental version, played simply and beautifully by violin and piano. On cue, Belle emerged from the woods, Leroy walking her down the aisle—and Belle looked breathtaking. Her dress was almost ethereal, strapless and simple, floating around her like a wispy cloud. Neal noticed with amusement that no dirt or twigs caught on the fringe; apparently his father had planned for everything. There was a deep red rose pinned in Belle’s hair, the chestnut curls were in an artful updo with a few curly tendrils framing her face. She looked gorgeous and Neal smiled as he heard his father inhale sharply. 

It was strange that Leroy was leading her down the aisle. Neal glanced at Gold questioningly.

“Belle’s father chose not to attend,” Gold said quietly. “Leroy volunteered. I am grateful. Which is why…” He nodded towards a lady in pink who waved at Leroy excitedly. Neal didn’t know the backstory, but as Leroy’s expression lit up at the girl’s eager wave, he could tell that his father was rewarding Leroy handsomely. 

There was a bit of wistfulness on Belle’s face when they reached the makeshift altar as she turned and thanked Leroy for walking her down the aisle. She kissed his cheek tenderly and Leroy muttered something about stupid weddings in the middle of the forest, no wonder his allergies were acting up, and briskly joined the lady in pink, wiping his eyes. Belle turned towards Gold, taking his hands.

Archie cleared his throat. “It is my great honor to officiate this most lovely reunion,” He smiled towards Belle. “If you’d like to begin your vows.” 

Belle took a deep breath. “Rumplestiltskin,” She started. “This thing we have—it’s never been easy. I’ve—I’ve lost you so many times. I’ve lost you to darkness. To weakness and—and finally, to death. But now I realize—I realize that I have not spent my life losing you. I’ve spent my life finding you.” 

At Belle’s words, Neal couldn’t help but look at Emma. She smiled softly and Neal’s heart leapt in his throat. He thought of everything that had separated them, the heartbreak, his betrayal, her destiny. And yet here they were. Standing together. 

“Belle,” Gold replied softly. “When we met, I wasn’t just unloved and unloving…I was an enemy of love. Love had only brought me pain. My walls were up. But you broke them down. You brought me home.”

Emma’s breath hitched and Neal watched her eyes fill with tears. Her hand went to her collarbone and Neal watched her touch the swan pendant he’d gotten her, so long ago. 

“You brought light into my life and chased away all the darkness. And I vow to you, I will never forget the distance between what I was…and what I am. I owe more to you than I can ever say. How you can see the monster behind the man, I will never know.” Gold’s voice was reverent as he gazed at Belle. 

“But the monster is gone,” Belle said gently. “And the man beneath him may be flawed, but we all are. And I love you for it. Sometimes the best book has the dustiest jacket. And sometimes the best teacup is chipped.”

Emma smiled to herself and Neal quirked his head at her—apparently she was a little more privy to the ‘chipped teacup’ line than he was. Gold and Belle kissed, a tender, loving kiss that made Neal ache with the urge to kiss Emma. 

They were now man and wife—Mr. and Mrs. Gold. 

Belle turned to the assembly and smiled through her tears. “Thank you all for joining us,” She said in her low, sweet voice. “I’d like to have one or two dances with my husband before the evening ends.”

Gold chuckled a little bit and with a flick of his wrist, the record player began playing something soft a melodic. A woman’s low voice crooned out a love song and Belle and Gold began to dance. 

XXXX

Emma smiled when she noticed Leroy bashfully ask Astrid to dance. She would not have pegged Leroy supportive of Gold and Belle’s relationship, but apparently Leroy was unfailingly loyal to Belle. She stood next to Neal and watched as the couples began to dance—even laughing to herself as Ruby dragged Archie into the mix. 

The record player switched over and a new song began, one Emma recognized. Damien Rice’s song, “Delicate”. 

She immediately noticed Neal looking at her and a shiver went down her spine. She met his gaze and arched a brow.

“I thought we already had our dance,” She pointed out and Neal grinned.

“That didn’t count,” He returned. “That was part of a con. Let’s dance. Let’s dance for real.” 

Emma smiled softly. “Okay,” She agreed. He took her hand and led her out onto the clearing, joining the dancing couples. He placed his hand on her back, taking her hand once more, and they gently started to sway to the music. 

“Emma,” Neal asked her gently. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“That guy…back in our parents’ land…” Neal cleared his throat. “You knew him from here.”

Emma’s throat closed up. “Yes,” Her voice sounded a little funny. “I did. He was…he was the sheriff when I first came to Storybrooke. The huntsman. His name was Graham.”

Neal was quiet for a long moment. “And Regina…”

“Killed him,” Emma’s voice became very small. “Crushed his heart. He and I…we…”

“It’s okay,” Neal said softly. “It’s okay. I’m so sorry, Emma. I’m sorry she did that. He saved us. He saved all of us.” Emma nodded, trying to steady her breaths. Graham had been the one to break down the first of her walls. Graham could have been true love—but now she would never know, thanks to Regina.

Neal seemed to understand this as he led her, dancing in time with the music. It struck her that it felt so comfortable to be in his arms. It had always felt so natural, as if she and Neal had been meant for each other long before they’d met one drizzly afternoon. She sighed in his arms and he pulled her closer. 

She started to lose all sense of time as they danced together. She couldn’t even quite hear the music anymore, though the lyrics seemed to seep into her bones, stripping her bare. She rested her head against Neal’s shoulder, feeling raw and vulnerable. 

The music reached its crescendo and Emma slowly lifted her head to stare at Neal. His face was still, his warm brown eyes flecked with sadness. He was holding her as gently as spun glass and it nearly broke Emma’s heart to look at him. Her hand went to stroke his cheek and he closed his eyes at her touch. 

I wish I could just get over it, Emma thought to herself bitterly. I wish I could just shove the pain away, make all that hurt disappear. I wish I could just be happy with him. But I’m scared. I’m so scared of being with him again, I’m so scared of how he makes me feel... 

She was never sure if he bent his head first or if she lifted herself up to reach his mouth. But somewhere between the heartbreaking melody and violins’ swell, their lips met and Emma forgot her fears. Neal’s kiss was as warm as she remembered and she realized with heartbreaking clarity that once again, Neal was showing her what home meant. Home was with Neal. Here and now, she felt Tallahassee. 

XXXX

Regina waited outside of the diner, pacing nervously. Her heels clicked against the pavement and she straightened hopefully when she saw Robin, Marian, and Roland exit the diner. Robin’s expression was closed and fear gripped Regina’s heart.

“Robin,” She called out and he froze, turning towards her. He glanced at Marian who nodded towards him, scooping up Roland, giving them a little space. Robin walked towards her, his expression solemn. 

“Will you tell me the truth, Regina?” Robin asked gravely. “Will you give me that decency?”

Trembling, Regina nodded. 

“Did you kill my Marian?”

Regina’s eyes filled with tears. “Robin…please…”

His expression was impassive and Regina balled her fists. “I didn’t—I didn’t know she was your wife,” She said miserably. “I didn’t even know who you were. I—there were so many people, so many people trying to protect Snow White…”

“And you killed them,” Robin’s voice was flat. “Just as you gave the order to execute my Marian. Emma didn’t just save Marian—she saved her from you.” 

“Robin, please,” Regina begged. “I—I’ve changed. I’m not who I was, I…I’m different now…”

Robin’s shoulders slumped. “I hope that’s true,” He said quietly. “But it doesn’t alter the fact that you murdered my wife. And now…my Marian’s returned to me. She is my true love, Regina.”

Regina’s eyes filled with tears. Robin closed his eyes.

“I hope you find happiness,” He turned away from her, starting to walk towards Marian. “And I hope you become a person deserving of it.” 

At that, Regina’s knees gave way and she crumpled to the ground.

XXXX

Hook was drinking, which wasn’t particularly unusual for the pirate. A pretty fine end to a monotonous day, in his opinion. There was nothing a large glass of rum couldn’t fix. 

He noticed immediately when the Evil Queen walked in. Her expression was pale, there was mascara tracks under her eyes. A clear sign of rejection, if Hook knew anything about it. Not that he did, very few did reject him, but he at least understood the concept in theory. 

“Your majesty,” He greeted sardonically as Regina took a seat, a few stools down form him. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

The bartender provided Regina a clear shot which she downed with impressive fortitude. She snapped her fingers for another, plainly ignoring Hook. 

But a lady ignoring him was hardly a stopper for him. He slid off his stool, taking the seat next to her. “What’s the matter, love? You seem a bit forlorn.”

Regina downed another shot. “Emma’s returned. She went back in time and rescued Robin’s wife—and brought her back.” Her hand curled around the shot glass in anger and Hook arched a brow. 

“Leaving you out in the lurch,” Hook tapped his hook against the bar, receiving another glass of rum for the gesture. “Sounds very like Swan.” 

“She wasn’t even sorry,” Regina gritted her teeth. “She acted like—like it was some kind of punishment. Like I deserved it.”

Hook laughed harshly. “And didn’t you? Let me guess—this particular wife, the lovely Maid Marian if I remember my stories right—was some poor peasant you needlessly slaughtered in your pursuit of Snow White.” 

Regina’s lip curled. “I don’t need reminding of my…darkness. My sins to bear.” 

“Well, love,” Hook took a swig of rum. “I’m not judging you. Lord knows my own past is filled with the unsavory. I’m surprised Swan’s put up with me for this long, but—”

Regina sneered at him. “Don’t get too excited, pirate. Emma came back with Neal—and they seemed pretty cozy going to Rumplestiltskin’s wedding—God, there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say…”

“I’m aware,” Hook sighed into his drink. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I did give Baelfire my blessing to pursue her.”

“Like he needed it,” Regina shot back and Hook cracked a grin at her. 

“But you know,” Hook said thoughtfully. “I’m not too fussed about it. I think I liked Swan for the same reason you liked Robin.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed and she turned on her stool to fix him with a steely glare. “Oh?”

“I liked what Swan represented,” Hook said wryly. “That a hero—someone good, someone right, could look at a blackguard like me and see something worth redeeming. That she saw more of the man than the pirate.”

“That isn’t—” Regina started to say but Hook interrupted her. 

“Isn’t it?” He asked squarely. “Didn’t you love it when a hero like Robin Hood, the defender of poor peasants you so mercilessly persecuted, saw something good in you? Something right? Something that reminded you of the lost lonely princess you are? You thrived on that, your majesty. But it’s not real. It’s just something in our heads that keeps us warm at night and makes us feel like we’re decent people.” 

He took a musing sip of rum. “That’s probably why Rumplestiltskin fell for a pretty little piece like Belle. Empty-headed girl, deluded enough to think she can save the beast.”

Regina privately disagreed. She’d seen Belle’s fire, her heroism—and of course, had taken full advantage of it. Hook always underestimated Belle, but a part of Regina sought Belle’s forgiveness. She had a feeling if she didn’t, Belle would make a fearsome enemy. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Regina said bitterly. “I should’ve known better. Villains don’t get happy endings.” 

“Too true,” Hook concurred and he clinked his glass against hers. “So what does that mean? Is the Evil Queen back, now that the lovelorn Regina is gone?”

Regina’s mouth twisted. “No. I do want to be a better person—someone worthy to be Henry’s mother. In all of this, I overlooked Henry.”

Hook quirked an eyebrow. 

“Roland didn’t know who I was,” Regina swallowed. “He didn’t know what I’ve done. Neither did Robin, really. I liked that. I liked being around people I didn’t have to prove myself to. I love Henry so much, but loving him now hurts because he’s seen the good and the bad…”

She took a deep breath. “But that changes now. I want to be there for Henry. I see that now…it’s not too late for me to hang up my heart. I don’t have to be the Evil Queen any longer.”

Hook pondered this. “Rather noble, I must say. You’ll make yourself a hero yet.” He downed his drink, smacking his lips. 

“What about you?” Regina challenged. “You’re going to stay a pirate, I assume?’

“Mm,” Hook examined his hook. “Not sure. I have to wonder if it even matters in this world. But I do know…I betrayed Baelfire long ago. And I made up for it by provoking him while he was searching for his son and going after his girl. Bad form.” His slick expression faltered into something close to honest regret. It surprised Regina. 

“So you want to make it up to Neal?” She asked. “By being a better man?”

Hook didn’t answer, simply took a long swig. Regina felt a sudden burst of kinship for the pirate that surprised her. When it came down to it, they weren’t so different. A kindred spirit. 

Perhaps it was the sixth shot buzzing through her veins—perhaps it was her loneliness, her sorrow over losing Robin—but something within Regina burst, like a dam overflowing. She leaned towards Hook and brushed her lips against his. He kissed her back, tasting of nicotine and rum. An unfamiliar taste—but not altogether bad. Something to get used to.

Moments later, they were in her bedroom.

XXXX

A man in a frayed leather jacket walked down the forest path. He avoided the clearing with the lit lanterns, where the Dark One would wed his bride—too many people. Too many witnesses. The moon was full, the stars glittered in anticipation, and it was a good night for dark magic. 

There was a quiet area in the middle of the wood where a few unmarked graves formed a crescent shape. They were old graves, from the settlers that had come to this land hundreds of years ago, their hearts filled with hope and yearning for a better future. 

This man knew this hope. 

He drew a strange rune upon the dewy grass, murmuring words in a forgotten language. He began to shudder violently, something coursing through his blood but he kept at his work until the etching was complete. Finally, he sunk to the middle of the crescent, his voice becoming hoarse as the powers flowed through him. The wind rushed through the trees, rain suddenly poured from the heavens, the rune was set ablaze in an intricate wall of fire, and the ground rumbled. 

A shadow appeared amid the flames and the man smiled. From the shadows emerged a woman, clad in black, holding a long staff. She coughed a little and the man bowed down.

“My lady,” He said reverently. “Praise the powers I was able to bring you back.”

She smiled. “Ah, Diablo. My most trusted pet. I knew you would not fail me.” She took his palm and kissed his fingertips.

“What is it you wish to do first?” Diablo asked his mistress. “I am at your disposal.”

“Well,” She said thoughtfully. “There is so much to attend to. So many people who have disgraced me. Regina, for one thing—forcing me to remain in my dragon form for thirty years and enacting that terribly inconvenient curse. Rumplestiltskin, for hiding that irritating potion in my gut—and didn’t his love break my yaoguai? That reminds me of that little snip of a princess and her warrior lover—or her prince lover, I can never keep track with that girl. And of course, Emma Swan. The Savior. Who threw a sword into my heart.” 

Diablo bared his teeth. “We should kill her first.”

“Patience, pet,” Maleficent stroked his cheek. “All in good time. Now why don’t you and I stroll out of this dreary place? Something tells me that Storybrooke should be quite…welcoming.”

And with that the dark fairy took Diablo’s arm and walked off into the night.


End file.
